


Of Roses and Home

by a2h1ey



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Based on a Bette Midler Song, Canon Compliant, Edited/Updated, Eventual Happy Ending, Falling In Love, Gen, Hanahaki Disease, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Off-Screen Love Confessions, One Shot, Post-Canon, Romance, Song Lyrics, technically a songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 11:51:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17786861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a2h1ey/pseuds/a2h1ey
Summary: "Some say Love, it is a river,That drowns the tender reed.""I say Love, it is a flower;But you, it's only seed."~ 'The Rose' by Bette Midler[Major Spoilers for Brotherhood/The Manga]Edited/Updated: Feb. 23, 2019





	Of Roses and Home

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATE: So... I realized (a week later) I may or may not have completely and utterly posted the Rough Draft and not the Final. Whoops. (This is why I need a beta and I'm surprised no one called me out on all the inconsistencies and unintentional redundancy. XP) Though there are still run-ons and other grammar things (because I seem to be incapable of writing anything else, rip) this should read much better now than it did before. Hopefully. :P
> 
>  
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day! So... this is based on one of my favorite songs ever, but I'll skip over explaining that right now.
> 
> This fic is based off of Bette Midler's "The Rose", just so you know.
> 
> And this is the SAPPIEST AND CHEESIEST THING I'VE WRITTEN. And that's saying something, I'm sure.
> 
> Things you should know!
> 
> 1) You don't need to listen to the song if you don't want to (as it's basically just a poem with a tune) since I wrote down all the Lyrics, but I do recommend it. :3
> 
> 2) This is Hanahaki Disease AU (though it's sort of as a background thing; I wanted to more focus on Ed and Roy themselves) but MAJOR SPOILERS. Warning you now.
> 
> 3)The Lyrics are written in the following format:
> 
> Lyrics from Verse1  
> \----  
> Lyrics from Verse2
> 
> Both are written simultaneously, but don't worry, it should be easy to see which is which as Lines from the same Verse rhyme, and Verses 1 and 2 are used 4 times. After the 4th, only Verse 3 (the final verse) will be used.
> 
> I think you all can figure that out pretty easily, but wanted to give a heads-up.
> 
> Oh, and there's a surprise for you at the end! Just a little Epilogue I wrote for the Fluff and Sappy goodness. :3
> 
> (And if anyone is interested in why I wrote chose this song and etc., I explain in the end notes so as not to take up too much space here.)

> “Some say Love, it is a river,  
>  That drowns the tender reed.”  
>  \---  
>  “It’s the heart afraid of breaking,  
>  That never learns to dance.”

It had begun long before he was able to fully prepare himself, to raise his walls and fortify his defenses against what very well might have taken root in his core before even then. 

If he had known, he would have pulled that growing weed long before it had the chance to grip his chest in its delicate tendrils.

Of course, he _had_ had his suspicions. 

Late at night, while he laid in his bed pretending to sleep while Al quietly read, he thought about it. After all, why else would his eyes seemingly be magnetized to Mustang without his permission? 

But he dismissed the idea the moment it floated through his confused thoughts; it was nothing. 

Besides, he had better things to think about; specifically getting Al’s body back. 

No, it was nothing more than being curious about his mysterious, infuriating superior. 

That’s all it had to be.

> “Some say Love, it is a razor,  
>  That leaves your soul to bleed.”  
>  \---  
>  “It’s the dream afraid of waking,  
>  That never takes the chance.”

Roy, for all that he tried to distance himself, knew it was a futile effort and he was just kidding himself, but that didn’t stop him from trying.

The days following Maes’ death were a blur. 

Besides the dark, gloomy atmosphere that seemed to have descended on them all, Roy could almost have imagined that nothing had changed: though now more tense and unsure, Havoc, Breda, and the others of his team still joked around, Riza still threatened to shoot them for slacking though she did seem to be decidedly more lenient currently, and he still got reports through the Madame’s connections that the Fullmetal Alchemist was wreaking havoc in the East while his Automail got repaired, blissfully unaware of what had transpired while he was away.

And as unfair as it might seem, he wanted it to remain that way for as long as possible.

He didn’t really know what had occurred that night in Lab Five, or why Armstrong and a few other soldiers that had been around the Elrics’ were so tense - the reports he got were all over the place, and they all seemed beyond unwilling to say anything in deference of Ed and Al’s involvement - but he knew one thing for certain: the knowledge of Maes’ murder could very well be the final nail to their already heavily confined coffins.

So he decided, against the better judgement of himself and the opinions of everyone else, that it was best if they were unaware of it for as long as possible.

It was for the best. He _knew_ \- knew how much guilt Ed carried, how he put all the problems of the world on his already burdened shoulders - and though he also knew the weight of this would be far worse the longer it was held off, he knew that any more could crush him completely.

And the thought of how _devastated_ he would be-

No. 

Taking a sip of his cooling coffee to ease his dry throat, Roy turned back to signing the reports in front of him as he put any and all thoughts of the Fullmetal Alchemist out of his head.

He had a murderer to catch, after all.

> “Some say Love, it is a hunger,  
>  An endless aching need.”  
>  \---  
>  “It’s the one who won’t be taken,  
>  Who cannot seem to give.”

The world was ending, and Ed was stuck on the run with his annoying friend who was now part Homunculi and two chimerae.

And sitting there, watching the twinkling stars during his turn to keep watch, Ed’s mind wandered, absently wondering how his life became like this. He knew the answer to that, but still.

He worried. For all that he pretended and put up a mask of an unconcerned devil-may-care outlook, it was impossible not to.

He worried for Alphonse, for Winry, for his friends(?) he made at Briggs that he had all left behind when he fought Kimblee; for the team back in Central, for his friends there and in East City… and for Mustang.

And it shocked him to the core that he honestly meant that.

Like the realization had made him choke on air, he cleared his suddenly ticklish throat with a little cough, causing the still healing wound in his abdomen to ache. He really hoped he wasn’t catching a cold; that was the last thing he needed at the moment.

Shaking his head of meandering thoughts as he tightened his now white coat around him, he turned his attention back to the far away lights of the nearest town as he gently touched his side, the warm glow glittering like an oasis in a dark desert.

Whatever he may or may not feel for his superior - honestly, he shouldn’t be _that_ surprised to worry for the smug idiot; ever since this all happened, they gained a bit more respect for each other, he knew - he still had a million things to deal with that were far more important than something so superficial.

Like right now, it was to focus on getting the stab wound healed completely and being back at full strength, all while trying to head back to Central undetected. 

He couldn’t save Alphonse and everyone else if he was in a hospital bed, after all, and he _will_ do it, he will save them, no matter the cost.

He would sooner give up his own life than let the Homunculi get away with this, and it almost frightened him how much he was willing to do so.

> “I say Love, it is a flower,  
>  But you, it’s only seed.”  
>  \---  
>  “And the soul, afraid of dying,  
>  That never learns to live.”

He did it.

He had _done it_.

And Roy never saw it happen.

He had been there, heard everything that happened after Truth took his sight - _“Welcome, Mr. Alchemist...”_ No, he refused to think about that now, if ever - but for all that he had been present, felt the rush of adrenaline while fighting a fake god without sight, he would never know the true extent of what occurred while he had been blinded.

But he still felt, still heard; heard the cheers of when Ed - incredible, determined and death-defying Edward - had literally punched the pseudo-god to death, and then he heard the voice of Alphonse when he first opened his eyes, his purely human eyes. 

For all that being blinded took away from him, not seeing the Elrics - not seeing _Edward’s_ \- long awaited dream come true was by far one of the worst.

And now Edward, with a newly restored Al, was gone, having hopped onto a train to Resembool as soon as Alphonse had been recovered enough to do so.

Ed had, of course, come by his room in the hospital. 

They had chatted a bit - mostly of their conditions, the chaos the military and those in Central were under - before having fallen into a not quite comfortable silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, either.

Unspoken feelings, unspoken words, they all had hung in the air, almost tangible in their intensity.

Eventually, it had been Edward who spoke up first for a change.

“Well, uh, me and Alphonse will be returning to Resembool soon so he can get better since he’s, you know, all stick and bone right now.” The silence persisted for a moment longer before Ed cleared his throat and continued, “So, uh, is there any papers I need to sign or something? Considering, you know, that I can’t exactly be a State Alchemist if I can’t do Alchemy.” 

And Roy found himself - not for the first time - wishing he could see Ed’s face, at least one more time. 

A thrill of shock ran through him when he realized how much he regretted possibly being no longer able to see Ed’s fiery golden eyes, his amber hair, and his newly regained arm.

The tightness in his throat and chest ached, and it was all he could do not to fall into a coughing fit.

“Well, Fullmetal,” he couldn’t help the grin at Ed’s grumble at the title despite being ‘no longer your dog, Mustang,’ because he had _earned_ it, Alchemy or no, “seeing as how much turmoil you managed to cause,” he continued on, ignoring the decidedly entertaining sound of protest from the blond, “I doubt you will be needed to come back any time soon, at least until your contract runs out.”

And, feeling something akin to loss but not quite as harsh, Roy gentled his voice. “Take as much time as you need, Ed.” He could almost feel the surprise radiating off of the younger, but continued on before he could say anything. “Come back in two years or so after you turn eighteen, and we can sign off your contract… And do make sure you and your brother visit sometime; the office will be pretty quiet without your rambunctiousness, squirt.”

Roy felt a wave of longing and nostalgia while he listened passively to Ed’s habitual rant.

He was going to miss that more than he cared to admit.

> “When the night has been too lonely,  
>  And the road has been too long;”

Two years.

It’s been about two years since Ed had left Central.

In that time Ed had left for the West, traveling through Creta, Aerugo, and even spending a few months in Dracma. He studied every form of Alchemy and science he could get his hands on, improving existing scientific advances and creating entirely new theories 

He even went and spent a while in Xing, learning about Alkahestry and pestering Ling, Al, and Mei while he was there.

And he never felt his chest ache with such longing and pain in his entire life.

Nobody knew, not really. Al had his suspicions whenever he had to hold in the flower petals that threatened to spill from his lips, whenever the coughs became _too much._

But as time marched on, as his heart ached for a yearning he barely knew how to comprehend, he found himself looking to the horizon, thinking of where he wanted to be.

Of where he wanted to come home to. 

But he never would, never _could._

After all, he knew the moment he spoke of even a fraction of the feelings flowing through him, the moment Mustang’s midnight blue eyes looked at him with pure _rejection_ … he wouldn’t survive that.

Just the thought sent him to a fit of coughs, the nearly black, blue petals of the hydrangeas fell from his lips coated in sticky blood.

So he stopped thinking about it; not like he had much time left to ponder it, anyways.

And then, one day he got a letter.

It in itself wasn’t that unusual. He didn’t understand how they did it, but if he stayed in any one place for more than a few months, he would get letters from the team, Al, and the others he could call friends. He had no idea how they found him, but they did. He never sent a letter back - though he did occasionally sent a phone call if he could - but they all sent him letters and occasionally packages, anyways.

But he never got a single letter from Roy.

The others might mention him every once in a while, such as when Hawkeye mentioned he got promoted to Major General, and how old man - well, 'Fuhrer', he should say - Grumman was drowning him in paperwork and how he was doing well in his progress to restore Ishval, after his sight thankfully got restored.

But never once did Mustang send a letter, or anything, actually.

And he could never decide if he was overwhelmingly grateful, or if he was heartbreakingly devastated. The painful clench in his chest seemed to lean to the latter, but he still refused to let himself dwell on it too much.

And then one day, months after he got the last letter from Al, a single envelope appeared with his name scrawled in an agonizingly familiar script. With a care and hesitance that he would have found embarrassing if his heart wasn’t beating a painful - a hopeful - rhythm in his chest, he gently opened it and took out the single sheet of paper.

It was short, and all it did was describe how the past few weeks went, how much paperwork that was piled up now, and how everyone else was doing. How he still had quite a few months before he was due to return to officially be released from being a State Alchemist.

And as he read it, he realized how much he desperately wanted to be there, how much he _missed_ everyone.

Then, at the very bottom, Ed swore his heart all but stopped.

_“I want you to know that, no matter where you are, I will always_ [the words were scribbled out here] _wish you well._

_Come home soon; the office is too quiet without you here kicking down my doors and annoying my officers._

_Roy Mustang, Major General Bastard”_

It was only when water droplets fell onto the page that he realized he was crying. And for once, as the flowers fell - small flowers the same colors of those piercing, beautiful eyes - with each choking sob, he couldn’t bring himself to care and stop them.

_“Come home,”_ he said. For all the he never had one, it made something squeeze in his chest that he was allowed to call it _home._

Without a second thought, he packed what little he had, tucked the letter into his pocket, and left.

He may not survive to see the next month - he knew his time was running short - but he didn’t care.

He was going home.

> “And you think that Love is only  
>  For the lucky and the strong.”

Roy knew Ed was back.

Of course he did; how could he miss the excited whispering around Command?

He felt his throat constrict at the thought, felt the petals beginning to rise from within his chest...

It’s been years; literally. And in that time, after Amestris had mostly calmed down and he fell into a familiar routine, he began to notice how much he absolutely missed the fiery blond.

How much he had come to love him.

No one knew. Riza had her suspicions - of course she did - but she never pushed it, and for that he was grateful. It was bad enough that he had fallen hopelessly in love with someone who wasn’t even there, let alone say the words out loud.

Saying them would be like saying it was true, and though it was cowardly, for the sake of saving himself, he would deny it to the end.

Even when the liquid gold and fiery red carnation petals that he coughed up every night told otherwise.

The petals only started about a year ago, when Havoc casually mentioned getting a call from the blond he hadn’t seen in far less time than it felt.

And when he realized how much he _missed_ Ed - how much he enjoyed their playful bantering, the deep and thoughtful discussions, their mutual respect and companionship - Roy had to leave; the pain in his chest was almost too much, and he just barely made it to the luckily vacant bathroom to cough up flower petals into the toilet.

At the time he dismissed the idea completely; him, coughing flowers, for Fullmetal of all people?

But even then, he knew. He _knew._

And after he finally gained the courage to write him a letter, Ed decided to come back home a scant few weeks later, with months of time before he was required to return to sign off the forms for his release.

He couldn’t decide whether he was overly hopeful, or absolutely terrified.

Swallowing his nerves - and the persistent petals and cough - down, he glanced up at the clock for the umteempth time.

More than anything, he hoped that Ed’s return wouldn't break him apart.

> “Just remember in the winter,  
>  Far beneath the bitter snows;”

Edward stared up at the house.

It was nicely aged, made of brick and painted wood, two stories, with a nicely sized garden that was taken pretty well care of from what he could see in the dim night lighting. 

Never in his life had he ever seen a more daunting residence.

Not that the house itself was terrifying; it almost seemed cozy, homey; words he would never have described anything Mustang-related, and yet… and yet he could. 

No, it was the prospect of knocking on the door and facing the one person he most wanted to meet, and whom he never wanted to see again.

Just the thought was almost enough to spur him into a fit of coughs.

Hesitantly, he slowly walked up the steps, pausing once he reached the door.

He could do this.

It’s only been two years.

And in that time, he realized how much he’s come to truly love the one person he admittedly care about just as much as he cared about Al.

And he was dying over it.

Yet… it was what made the love all the more precious, all the more reason why he _needed_ to see Mustang one more time, even if he would die from the encounter.

He could do this.

He raised his hand to knock.

An image of Roy flashed in his mind; a little older than he remembered, his eyes still those piercing midnight-blue, out of uniform, and-

-and Ed choked on the hydrangeas that came flooding from his chest.

_No_ , he was so close! 

He had to tell him- _needed_ to-

He fell against the door, coughing out the endless flowers, but he couldn’t get a chance to take a breath, couldn’t _breathe_ -

And the last thing he glimpsed as his vision faded was the image of Roy, crouching over him without a single mask to hide the pure emotions that crowded his face and beautiful eyes.

_I love you…_

@-,-’---

It was… warm.

His head hurt, and his chest ached, but he was… warm.

Warm, and comfortable, and just so purely content…

He wondered if he was dead.

A weight shifted on his waist.

He glanced down, blinking at the arm that was wrapped possessively around him.

Following the arm up, he blinked again when he saw Roy, snuggled right against him with a small frown, hideous bags under his eyes, and his hair was a ruffled mess.

And next to seeing Al open his eyes for the first time, Roy was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He didn’t even realize he had reached over till his hand gently smoothed over the furrowed brows, watching in mild wonderment as the tension softened, and those eyes watched him with a warmth that made his heart glow.

“...You’re awake.” The pure hopefulness, relief, and adoration in those soft, whispered words was enough for Ed to realize a few things.

One: He wasn’t dead. 

Two: Roy was with him, and he wasn’t full of scorn or harsh coldness or rejection.

Three: He could _breathe._

He felt a smile stretch across his lips as he slowly leant in closer…

“I love you, too.”

The answering smile was enough, the kiss even moreso.

Because there, in his love's arms, was where he was meant to be.

> “Lies the seed that, with the sun’s Love,  
>  In the spring becomes the Rose.”

_EPILOGUE:_

Roy flipped through the gardening book he kept in their study.

“What should we plant in the garden?”

Ed looked up from his own book, glancing outside at the warm, spring day.

“Hm… hydrangeas. Dark blue hydrangeas, to be exact.”

Roy smiled.

“I think those would look lovely right by some gold and red carnations.”

Ed lifted an eyebrow.

“Are you trying to be smooth or something, Fuhrer Elric-Mustang?”

Roy flashed him a grin, but it smoothed to a simply happy smile by the time he reached Ed for a kiss.

“Only for you, my Rose. Only for you.”

@,-'---

**Author's Note:**

> Notes/FunFacts:
> 
> \- Carnations (Red and Gold) means: 'Love', 'My heart Aches and Admiration', and 'Disdain'.
> 
> \- Hydrangeas (Blue) means: 'Thank you for understanding', 'Hopefulness', and 'Heartlessness'
> 
> \- Yes, I chose them on purpose because METAPHORS
> 
> And, why did I choose this song?
> 
> Because A) it's one of my all time favorites, and B) whenever we used to stay my grandparents' house often (which we still do), when I was little my mom played a Music Box for me before going to bed and sang the words, and it was The Rose. 
> 
> So, the song has a super special place in my heart, and I'm so happy I finally was able to write something about it, and knowing it was RoyEd made me even happier. C:
> 
> And, well, I always wanted to write a song-fic, and thinking on the words, they fit RoyEd pretty well!
> 
> That, and I FINALLY found an excuse for Hanahaki.
> 
> My life is complete. At the moment, anyways.
> 
> :3


End file.
